Red Ledger
by Agent Blackhawk Carter
Summary: Rated T(subject to change) Agent Barton is given a new mission from Director Fury: Take out the notorious Black Widow. But not all missions are easy or go according to plan. Decisions will be made and loyalties will be tested. Pre-movies
1. Chapter I

**AN: **So...I've been hit with the Avengers Are Awesome! bug or something ever since I started watching the Marvel Cinematic Universe. And it's finally helped lead me to start writing again. Usually I just write Sailor Moon and Stargate SG-1 fics but I'm venturing out of my comfort zone.

So I give you this story. I hope it entices you to stick with it and it's enjoyable.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything in this story aside from the plot (though I wouldn't mind owning Clint and Tasha...*cough*). This is purely for enjoyment and I'm not getting a cent from it. So you no sue.

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The jostling of the specialized jet didn't phase the dirty blond haired man as he stared at the thin file folder he held in his calloused hands. Normally he would be flying the jet but the Director had ordered that the quinjet be taken back after he had been dropped off in Moscow. The fewer traces there were to the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement Logistics Division the better. The man wished that they could come up with a better, easier name than that. A lot of people, including his friend and handler Phil Coulson, called the agency SHIELD. And it was appropriate too. They were a sort of shield to the world in attempts at keeping terrorism, international drug trafficking, human trafficking, and everything else under control.

"Forty minutes out from the LZ Agent Barton," the pilot called back.

Clint Barton looked up and nodded before his steel blue eyes looked back down at the file. No way in hell was this going to be easy. Infiltrating the Kremlin was going to be one of his more difficult missions to date. But they needed more intel. The thin file he had wasn't going to cut it. Not if he was to succeed in this mission. He briefly thought back to the meeting he had had with Director Fury about this mission.

_Clint walked through the halls of the Helicarrier and headed to the room off of the bridge that Fury used as an office to give out assignments. Clint had been looking forward to enjoying at least a few days of rest after his last mission, taking out some South American drug lord, but that was just wishful thinking. He didn't get that luxury. Hardly any of the top notch agents did. And he was among the best snipers/assassins they had on their payroll. They'd be a fool to not utilize his skills._

_The man gave a nod to Maria Hill, one of the many women he respected before he stopped at the door and knocked. Hearing the gruff, "Come in!" he slipped in and shut the door before he moved over to the desk and stood in front of it. His sharp eyes studied the dark skinned Director from his posture. Nick Fury was tough. If you couldn't see it in how he stood and carried himself you could tell from the eyepatch the man wore_

_"You wanted to see me sir?"_

_Fury nodded and moved to the small window that overlooked the bridge. "We have a new target on our radar," he spoke. "Tell me. What do you know of black widows?"_

_The question was a bit of a curveball but it was how Fury did things. "Species of spider. Venomous. After mating the female kills the male."_

_"And what do you know of THE Black Widow?"_

_"Allegedly one of the most deadly assassins in the world. People claim from various law enforcement agencies that the Black Widow has been around since the 1960s or something." He shrugged. "Most think it's just a myth."_

_"Do you?"_

_"I don't think it's the same person, just a title that gets passed down but yes sir. I think there is an assassin out there called Black Widow."_

_Fury opened a file on his desk and began laying out photographs. "These are some of the shots we have of the work the Black Widow has done." He laid a picture of a rioting city on the desk. "Sao Paulo. A prominent political figure was taken out in the middle of her inauguration ball. Mass rioting broke out. This was five years ago." Fury flipped over another photograph, this time of a body that had been badly tortured and killed. "This is Inna Drakova. She was taken by unknown assailants from her father Ivan and his five security guards and held for ransom. At first he refused to pay when the deadline came up. An hour after the deadline he received his daughter's ear. He immediately paid the ransom and the body was dumped on his front door that night with a note saying he should have paid it right away."_

_Clint listened as Fury spoke, picking up the photos and studying them closely. "Whoever did these is good," he murmured more to himself. He glanced up at the Director as yet another photograph was overturned, this time of a burned down building. Clint could only tell it had been a hospital from the charred sign in the foreground._

_"This was taken a day and a half ago. This hospital was in Germany about fifteen klicks outside of Hamburg. The exit doors were chained shut. And there was only one potential target in that building. Boris Zharkov. Intel reports that Zharkov use to be a doctor exclusively for the KGB before he defected."_

_"And you think that Black Widow took all these targets out?" Clint inquired._

_Fury nodded. "But we need hard data. So you're going in to get it. Once you have the files on Black Widow, you'll find her and take her out."_

_"Sounds like a challenge. One question. Go where to get it?"_

_"The Kremlin."_

Clint looked up from the pictures as the quinjet set down on the ground. Shutting the file, he left it on the seat so it could be taken back to base and he picked his heavy duffel bag up. He grabbed a case with his other hand and exited the jet. He moved over to the black SUV that stood out of the way and pulled the door open, tossing his bag in before carefully sliding the case into it. He got in as well and nodded to the driver. The vehicle pulled out and began driving towards the distant city of Moscow. Clint stared out of the window, hoping his rudimentary Russian was going to cut it in getting in and out of the Kremlin. If not...well hopefully the Russians wouldn't discover he was an American.

An hour later Clint got out of the car and walked the rest of the way to his room. The building was an old SHIELD safehouse. Slipping in, Clint began laying everything out before he looked over and noticed the Russian officer's uniform sitting to one side. He had a decent rank, high enough he wouldn't have to worry about taking orders from everyone but still low enough where he wouldn't stand out too much or have to do much talking. Spotting a file on the bed, he moved over towards it and read everything on the list, making notes that the computers were already hit with the undetectable virus that would let his pass work in getting in. He memorized the routes he would need to take or might have to take as well as how all the equipment worked.

With everything prepared, he stripped his jacket off and laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. If Black Widow was as good as everyone thought, this was going to be one of his most dangerous missions ever. The reality that he might end up the one dead crossed his mind but he pushed the fear away. He had to at least try. For the greater good or something heroic like that.

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**AN: **That's all I got so far. Reviews are appreciated but please, no flames. Constructive criticism only please and thanks! I hope everyone liked it though.


	2. Chapter II

**AN**: Because I'm on a roll or something here's chapter 2! I hope you all are liking it. I know I'm loving writing it again.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything in this story aside from the plot.

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Clint strode purposefully through the plaza of the Kremlin, acting every bit like the officer he pretended to be and like he belonged. Younger and lower ranking officers and enlisted personnel scurried out of his way but he didn't let anything show on his face. He had taken the time to add some prosthetics to his face to make him look a bit older to fit the role of the colonel he was playing and so far it seemed to be working. Infiltration and intel gathering were not something he was use to. But he had to do this. The few agents they had in Russia were in deep cover and they couldn't be risked for this mission.

As he passed the security station he boredly handed his pass to the man stationed there. He watched with indifference as he waited to be cleared, not showing his nervousness that maybe the virus had been detected or hadn't gotten fully implanted yet. Hearing a ding, Clint accepted his pass back before he turned and began walking through the doors. He moved through several halls before he headed down the stairs to the archive room. He wished he had the build for the air vents but his shoulders were too broad for the ducts in the Kremlin.

He moved past an enlisted woman with red hair that looked to be little more than a secretary as he made his way down the hall to the archive room. He keyed in the code he had been given before he slipped in. He shut the door for privacy and moved quickly to the file cabinets and shelves and began looking for anything he could find on Red Room, Department X, but most of all the Black Widow program. After five minutes he grinned. "Paydirt..." he breathed quietly. He quickly began taking as many of the files as he could but there were quite a few on Black Widow and the Red Room. Finding all he could, he shrugged out of his jacket and quickly began placing the files into the lining.

_Why couldn't they have moved all of these onto a computer?_ he thought, pulling the jacket back on. He knew the jacket would fit like before, it had been designed by SHIELD so that they could hide documents in it without showing where but that didn't mean it was comfortable to wear. Making sure everything was in place, he moved to the door and tugged it open, exiting the archive room and heading down the hall. He passed the same woman as before but didn't pay much mind to her as he headed upstairs to get the hell out of dodge. So far so good. As he reached the upstairs he began thinking that maybe this wasn't going to be too hard of a mission.

Before he could take a step towards the exit alarms began blaring.

**. . .**

Natalia Romanova had gotten word from her contacts in the Red Room that there was a potential security breech at the Kremlin. Word was some agency was sending a man in to get information. Most likely on her. She knew she had done her fair share to get on more than one or two hit lists. The fact it had taken so long though amused her a bit. But her handler had given her orders to go to the Kremlin, wait for the agent to appear, and then take him out. Or her out. Natalia didn't care who it was. Just as long as she was able to complete her mission so she could get back to more useful and fruitful ventures.

She had been in the Kremlin for a few days now when something new happened. A colonel she didn't know walked past her. She stared at him, taking quick notes of his appearance and physical movements. But what really caught her eye were the prosthetics on his face. Oh they were more than good and it took her doing a double take to ensure herself of what they were. But given infiltration was her speciality, she knew what to look for. The skin tone was just ever so slightly off under the flourescent lights. Whoever the man worked for they had resources, good resources.

Jade green eyes watched as the man moved to the archive room and she knew she had her man. She'd wait though. Let him get the information he sought then kill him on his way out. Then she could take the files herself and destroy them so no one would know about her or the Red Room. Fifteen minutes later after he entered the man left the room and headed back upstairs. Natalia let him think he was going to get away with it before she hit the button for the alarm. Immediately she left her post and took off up the stairs.

Rounding a corner she spotted the man hurrying to another set of doors without trying to seem like it and she smirked. Too easy. She began running forward, not bothering to shout to the guards at the doors, wanting to take down the man herself. Five meters away from the man, he suddenly whipped around, a Beretta in his hand and began firing shots at her. She reacted without thinking, diving to the side as one of the bullets grazed her arm. A grin formed on her face and she was up and chasing him again, her red hair streaming behind her.

**. . . **

Clint had been hurrying to the doors when he felt eyes on him. Years of being a sniper had honed his danger sense and right now it was screaming at him. Before he got to the guards he whipped around, pulling his Beretta out of his shoulder harness and he fired at the woman who was following him. He saw one of his bullets graze her arm but he was already taking off, barreling though the guards and down into a tunnel that would lead to another part of the Kremlin. Something about the way the woman had grinned told him she'd be on his tail in a matter of minutes. He ran at a full sprint, his lungs soon burning for oxygen but he kept the fast pace. He only slowed when he reached another guard post and he began shouting the only order he had taken time to learn and how to say perfectly, "Shut the doors now!" As the guards moved to comply he slipped through one that they missed and began heading away at a brisk pace, tearing the colonel rank off of his uniform and the prosthetics so that he looked like a young, fresh faced officer. All he had to do now was secure some transportation to the extraction site and he was gone.

He stumbled and grunted when he felt something hot rip through his shoulder and he turned, blinking when he saw the red head pointing a Glock at him, her red hair swaying in the breeze. "Something tells me you wouldn't understand the Russian I would speak," she said, her voice calm and professional.

Clint stared at her, not holding his injury. "You wouldn't be far off," he agreed. He stared at her, his eyes focused. "Is this the part where you tell me to run so it doesn't look like an execution or something?"

"That would mean I'd have to care about that."

"True," he agreed. He kept his eyes on her as he tried to think of a way to get out of this. He kept his eyes on her as she walked towards him until she was a few feet away from him. "Guns have a certain range of efficacy miss." Swiftly he knocked the gun out of her hand, not bothering to smirk at the look of surprise on her face. Instead he drove his knee into her gut, his hands locking around her arm and he flung her as hard as he could to the ground before he took off running. The pain in his shoulder throbbed with every step but he ignored it as best he could for now. He leapt up onto a car and ran over it before he spotted a young man revving a motorcycle.

Clint changed directions immediately and grabbed the kid, yanking him off before he got on and sped away. He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw the owner of the motorcycle chasing him down. He looked past the man and saw that Natalia had made quick work of hotwiring a car and was speeding towards him. He ignored his hat as it flew off and pulled an earbud out from his pocket and put it in, switching it on.

"Mother! I need extraction now!" he shouted over the wind and roar of the engine.

"_Someone on your tail?_" Coulson's voice crackled.

"Something like that. I've been hit in the shoulder too!"

"_Damn it Hawkeye, this was suppose to be a low key mission."_

"Someone should have told the red head that then!" He wove between a few cars, trying to stick to the narrow alleys so that his pursuer couldn't follow. "She's rather persistent too!"

"_Lose her if you can and make your way to the docks,_" Coulson ordered.

"Understood!"

Natalia was becoming frustrated as the man weaved through too narrow of spaces for the car she had taken to follow. Still, she knew the layout of Moscow fairly well and could guess rather accurately of where he'd pop out. Her back still had the dull ache from his throw but she didn't let the pain stop her as she followed the weaving black motorcycle and it's rider through traffic. After a few minutes she began to realize where he was headed and she smirked. The docks... His extraction must be there. She jerked a little when a few bullets entered her vehicle and she stared with grudging respect as she saw the man shooting at her without looking away from the road. He was using the mirrors to target her. He had more skill than she thought. At least with a gun. But two could play this game.

Pulling another Glock out she shattered the driver's window and began firing at him, trying to hit on of his tires so it'd blow. Instead she got a mirror but she didn't stop firing, trying to make each shot count. She had never failed in a mission before and she didn't intend to start now. A small voice in her mind briefly wished James was there to have her back but the last she knew he was in stasis. She pushed her thoughts for him away and focused on the task. They were at the docks now and there was only so much space yet for him to drive before he had to either stop or drive right into the cold waters of the ocean.

Clint holstered his Beretta after the woman shot the mirror out. When he realized what she was doing he did his best to try and weave the bike so she wouldn't hit him. As the road gave way to wood, Clint heard Coulson say that his ride was in the air and waiting at the last pier. Clint angled the bike that way and had a feeling the woman was following. Probably hoping to drive him into the water. The faint sounds of a chopper cut through and he glanced up, smiling in relief when he saw it. Spotting a few boards propped up on one side, he didn't question his luck and angled the bike there. Revving the engine, he opened the throttle the whole way as he hit the makeshift ramp. Letting go of the bike he held out with his good arm and grabbed onto the ladder that had been dangling from the helicopter. The pilot immediately began pulling away and climbing. Clint hooked his good arm and a leg into the rungs, watching as the car skidded to a halt on the docks.

Natalia got out of the car and glared at the man being carried away by the chopper, her eyes thunderous. She didn't bother trying to shoot him. He was out of range even for her skills and too high. She'd find him again. And she'd end his life. She turned and began walking away, heading to her safe house so she could report her failure to her handler. The only thing that might save her was she had a good idea of his build and what his face might look like. The hat and sun had made it hard for her to be sure but still. Few could move like that. And add in she had wounded him...

**. . .**

Clint sat on the quinjet, wincing as a medic tended to his shoulder. Coulson was pulling out the files he had gotten and was leafing through them to get a vague idea of what had been taken. Glancing over as the medic finished, Clint sat back and stared at his friend and fellow agent. "So. Anything useful in there?" he asked.

"Possibly. Though I think you should be thanking God or whatever higher power that likes you."

The blond frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"That woman was most likely your target."

"...that...was the Black Widow?"

Coulson nodded. "I believe so yes."

"Holy crap..."

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**AN: **So there's the second chapter. I hoped it was enjoyable. If anyone has ideas for this, constructive criticism, whatever, feel free to drop a review!


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